


Glorious Us

by Jalec



Category: Daredevil (TV), Iron Fist (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 04:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15453006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jalec/pseuds/Jalec
Summary: Matt's senses experience something they haven't before.





	Glorious Us

Matt's skin bristled as he came to. Whenever it was that he woke, wherever it was, he always quickly became aware of the space around him – he could identify not just the proximity of objects, but also his general location and the tone of the people around him. It was an ability afforded to him by the sensory changes of his body after the childhood accident that robbed him of his sight and turned him into Daredevil.

This morning he felt a distinct eeriness. The window curtains were still open and the chilled New York air pressed against the glass making the panes look like slabs of ice, but what he felt more keenly was the absence of a nearby person's warmth.

Danny had indulged him the last few weeks by being there when Matt woke up. He was typically an early riser, most days beating the sun, but recently Matt (who much preferred to sleep in, even if it was only until 7) had found Danny awake next to him contently lying in bed, monkishly silent.

Today Matt woke alone; there was no thump of heartbeat nor aura of calmness nor the crinkle of a smile when Danny realised Matt was awake. Immediately Matt sat up; there were many times he had come to and immediately had to spring into action. He was used to it. He was prepared. As lucidness took over, he began to feel more around him.

A large part of Matt's voyance came from his senses – particularly hearing and smell. If he came to in a warehouse after being knocked out, he could tell the intentions of the people around easily. They stunk of anger or ruthlessness or savagery. But in the air in his loft this morning there was no lingering feeling as if Danny had left under duress or in a rush of panic or worry.

Matt's muscles partially un-tensed, as much as they could in the cold of the room.

That was when he felt it – a different kind of vibe in the room. It was unfamiliar and that confused Matt, who had been privy to every emotion on the human spectrum, who had lived nearly all of them himself...

He stood up out of the bed and moved around the room slowly, and still the feeling persisted.

It was bright and warm and he visualised colours of sunrises and sunsets as he felt it around him. There was more to it, too; a sort of flavour, like a dull sweetness. Matt eventually found himself on the side of the bed that Danny slept. Danny's shirt was still there, on the floor. Matt picked it up and pressed it into his fingers. It felt like little sparks under his fingers, like Danny's stubble under his fingers, and for a moment Matt was overwhelmed by the sensation until the persistent vibe rocked into him again.

Matt quickly dressed himself in a sweatshirt and sweatpants and opened the door leading to the rest of the loft. A flood of the feeling rushed into him as he did, this time not just by way of touch or taste or smell, but by hearing. The sound was one he'd never heard, but was as soothing as distant waves crashing on a lonely beach. He clenched his eyes and cupped his ears as if performing some critical examination on himself. There was no denying the niceness of the feeling... but it was inexplicably bizarre and surreal, too.

There was no mistaking now that the feeling led up the stairs to the roof. Matt began walking and the bare grain under his feet felt like sandpaper as he ascended. He was consistently puzzled by these new experiences in his loft apartment of all places – where he knew every inch and where nothing extraordinary ever could happen by virtue of its complete un-remarkableness.

The doorknob was cold to the touch, frozen by the cool of the morning, but Matt barely noticed as he opened the door to the roof. Now he was experiencing everything at once – and amid it all, something else... Danny.

Danny was standing near the edge of the roof, shirtless with his palms pressed together and both his hands glowing gold above his head, balancing on one foot. His meditation poses never failed to impress Matt – though on this occasion he was oblivious as he realised that Danny was the source of the feeling.

"Danny?"

Danny unfurled and turned around. He wasn't shivering; he didn't even look cold. He looked truly peaceful, as he usually did after meditating. His hands stopped glowing as they fell to his sides.

Matt immediately noticed the feeling ebb away. It was not unlike a scent being carried away on a breeze; it was there all at once, then chopped into little bits and carried away in different directions. No matter how hard you chased it, it was gone.

"Danny. Oh –”

Matt may as well have whimpered. His senses were clear, but to his detriment. He was relieved of the bliss he had been feeling, and the sounds of the city had crept back in – crying, yelling, horns, trains...

"What is it?" Danny said.

Danny reached out and took Matt's hands and placed a kiss half over his boyfriend's lips, and that was when Matt felt it, heard it, was warmed by it – the spark, the beach, the sweetness and sunsets.

"It's you," Matt said quietly.

He pressed a kiss against Danny's lips. And another. And another. And then he brought Danny's hand to his mouth and kissed his palm.

"This," he said holding Danny's hand. "Can you do it?"

Danny chuckled, almost as if he were nervous himself, and then his hand started to glow.

Everything returned to Matt and he was so overwhelmed that all he could do was throw his hands around Danny and hold him tightly as he mumbled everything he could verbalise about the feeling into Danny's ear.

"It's the fist – but I've never felt that before. Not when we've been fighting; not when you're meditating."

Danny sighed.

"I don't think it's you. I think it's me. Something I did."

"You sound tired," Matt said.

"I've been up all night. Here – meditating."

"Jesus, Danny." And Matt reached out but again Danny still wasn't cold. "Why?"

"I had to think. I had to be sure."

"About what? Why not... inside?"

"No," Danny laughed. "The cold – it's good. Reminds me of K'un-Lun and helps me focus my qi."

Danny splayed his hand out in front of Matt and it began to glow softly – it had a rhythm somewhat like a hum or a heartbeat, and of course it was warm and sweet and soothing.

"We learnt a lot about qi there. It's life force. It's unique to a person. And yes it's a weapon in my fist, but it's also me. A pure essence of me."

The pair had had a discussion along these lines before – Matt was Catholic; Danny was taught by monks in K'un-Lun. They had differences in their beliefs, but they respected the other's ways and convictions, even if they didn't always understand them.

"The last few days, it started to hit me," Danny continued. "So I needed to mediate, you know?"

"Okay." Matt had supposed over the course of their relationship that meditation was not too different to prayer and confession in some ways. "Yes, what was it?"

"A change, I think." Danny's hand continued to glow. "Something... not since my parents. And I think it's affected me. Or something."

"Is it – are you hurt?"

"No," Danny said. "I'm in love with you."

As Danny said it, his hand pulsed with golden bright light and Matt could have swore he was a different person living in pure bliss of sun and warmth and sweetness. In his elation, he somehow managed to bring Danny's glowing hand to his mouth. His kissed it and realised he had experienced Danny's very essence, pure and gentle, and that he too was in love – he only wished he had a way to share it with Danny in the way Danny's qi had shared it with him.


End file.
